I apologize for yesterday. It was just one of those days, where everything ganged up and the whole hair spot was just too much for my fragile psyche. At that point , I think a pimple may have sent me over the edge. I also want to thank all of you for your support and love. You Ladies..and gentlemen are by far some of the awesomest people I know. And I know you are all just dying to know what is going on with my hair situation, so here goes.Obviously, after last nights whimpering episode, I woke up this morning and decided to put as much effort into taking care of myself as I do my girls. I got on the phone with that same ” I’m a Mommy and my kid is sick you better fit them in’ attitude and my doctor ( she is also AWESOME) fit me in..immediately. After a morning filled with hypochondriac what ifs, I was finally bound for a professionals opinion. I just knew it was going to be something awful..ring worm of the head, permanent hair loss, a fatal case of undiagnosed lupus. Oh yeah, my brain went there! I was a hot mess. I felt my eyes stinging and felt as if it had to be some thing awful..beyond just my vanity at a bald spot. Though let’s be real..that’s pretty big. It’s not like a sixth toe or something, I can’t keep a bald spot on my part line hidden.I head in, my doctor knows my husband is out of town and I am stressed, and that I am wound a little too tight these days. She handles me with kid gloves, and I do love her for that. So, she does the basics: temperature..normal, blood pressure…slightly elevated ( not surprised after all I was about to stroke out from bracing myself to get the official fatal diagnosis!), balding, scaly spot in my head..check. She decided that it didn’t look fungal….I’m thinking “THANK GOD FOR THAT!”Ewww! Uh oh. That is immediately followed by, “Oh shit! It really might be permanent baldness or LUPUS!!” She informs me, “I’m going to have to scrape some cells to check under the scope”. “Ok, let’s get this done so I can deal with it and fix it!” ( I have no time for this..really, I don’t!) So, she scrapes the frigging balding spot, “This may hurt a little”. Me (in my head conversation) “Really, is it really going to hurt? You are scraping my damn skin off my head. I’m pretty sure that is not helping the aesthetics of that spot at all!” She scrapes, I wince, I bleed a little, and she leaves the room.All the while, my girl are in the room coloring ( I told you I am alone with my girls..there’s no family in town). Bella draws a picture of the doctor and shows me while the doctor was out of the room. Me: “Aww, that’s cute but she needs some hair.” Bella: “Oh yeah, I forgot!” Gabi,”Yeah Bella, she no bald like Mommy!” Oh, I can always count on my girls to make me laugh in a crisis.Doctor returns; diagnosis….Seborrheic dermatitis. Know what that meas? Cradle cap! According to Mayo Clinic, Seborrheic dermatitis appears to run in families. Stress (yes!), fatigue(OH YEAH!), weather extremes( Heat wave of 2010), oily skin (yes), infrequent shampoos or skin cleaning( I clean everyday but hey, you can’t win the entire cause lottery), use of lotions that contain alcohol ( I wonder if my cheap wine that I’ve been drinking counts?), skin disorders (such as acne), or obesity( just one more reason to lose some weight!!!!) may increase the risk. Good news, not fatal. Treatment; Some baby shampoo and some topical medicine to clear up the skin irritation. The hair will grow back.Thank God! The funniest part, the whole time I was there my doctor kept saying ( as she is running her fingers through my hair looking for other spots), “You sure do have a lot of hair!” I told you I had a lions mane..with one spot of mange:) Thanks for holding my hand through my mini Mommy breakdown! But, barring any unfortunate turn ( damn hypochondria)..I’ back to my same old snarky self; giving you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but..the truth!

I was all prepared to write something really snarky and funny but alas, it is not to be! After my nightly shower, once the girls were finally asleep, I dried my hair and went in search of those damn couple of rogue gray hairs. Yes, I pick them. I know, not smart. Anyways, I noticed the other day ( by touch ) that there was a little rough patch on my scalp. I figured probably a little sun burn, maybe ..who knows what. Who has time to look? I take a shower, I usually let my hair air dry, I go to sleep. I’m lucky I get to be clean.I have mirrors, I just never have the time to fully utilize them. But tonight, on my gray hair recon mission, I found the patch. I analyzed it. It’s red and flaky, a little smaller than the size of a dime and, to my shock and dismay, my effin hair is missing from the spot. So, I am sitting here whimpering. Yes, actually whimpering. All kinds of horrible scenarios have shot through my head. I know you are thinking to yourself, what kind of moron doesn’t notice her hair has fallen out…enough to have a small patch of missing hair? Me, the kind of busy, stressed out moron who has a lion’s mane for hair and almost always wears it pulled back in a ponytail. That’s who! I spend every waking moment obsessing over every inch of my girls bodies, analyzing it for anything that may need treatment. I am ready for all scenarios..in their lives. But in my own life, I don’t even have time to notice something as obvious as my effing hair falling out? Tomorrow, I call my doctor. Hey doctor, if you are reading this…what the EFF is going on ? I need something to get rid of the red spot, regrow my hair, and stop me from crying..stat!! This day has kicked my ass, and totally added insult to injury~ Is it stress? Am I going bald? Do I have some kind of scalp condition? Some kind of disease? WHAT THE F*CK!! All I know is I am going to bed, to pray to God that this is not serious and reversible and so I can sleep and not think about this shitty situation. Sweet dreams!

I am not a passive person, so when life is holding my happiness hostage and hurling lemons at my head …I rant , rave and buck crazy. Today is one of those days and I really need to work through this frustration so I am going to list all of my grievances here, to get them off my shoulders ( so my head doesn’t explode)! If you don’t go for that sort of thing..stop now. Look away! I don’t want a post full of rage and anger so I am going to substitute the word “heart” for “hate” all throughout this post. You know in the spirit of turning my God damn( sorry but its just that frigging serious) frown upside down and all that shit! So be prepared, and feel free to expunge yourself here after I have finished my tirade! Happy Mothering my fellow POW’s!

I heart my husband being gone and me being alone!

I heart that my kids are acting like complete uncontrollable maniacs!

I heart that I am losing my cool and can’t handle it all.

I heart stupid ass people.

I heart waiting on others,for example, the people who interviewed my husband about a new job. I can not stand placing my forever in someone else’s power (its the impatient control freak in me).

I heart feeling fat.

I heart exercise, even more!

I heart never getting to see my friends.

I heart that we moved and moved back with not much say in it.

I heart that I got to see how my life could be only to have it taken away!

I heart that that bothers me so much.

I heart feeling envious of anyone.

I heart that bad things happen to good people; for example, good people dying young or little babies getting cancer.

I heart complainers; so I am hearting myself right now, a little bit!

I heart people who don’t know me at all pushing their unsolicited opinions on how I am suppose to feel (I’m referring to people in real life who don’t know me, have never read me, and don’t care about who I am or how I feel not y’all. You people get me!).Thanks..I really need other people to tell me what I am supposed to feel when they have never taken 1 step in my shoes.

I heart perpetual cleaning! Seriously, is it impossible for a house with children in it to stay the least bit lean?

I heart all the dog shit in my backyard…Dog, can you please stop shitting so much? Don’t I have enough asses to wipe inside the house?

I heart being broke! It’s fabulous and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It’s so awesome having to decide what to do with that extra $10 in your account..I’m voting for cheap wine!

I heart finally knowing what I want out of life and having to depend on others to achieve it.

I heart feeling old on days like this.

I heart feeling like such a shitty Mom, and not having enough hours in the day to do better!

Mostly, I heart that I just broke down in front of all of you. Now that I’ve shattered your image of calm, cool, collected me, please feel welcome to share what you heart today!

Ahh, remember the joy and excitement of going to the fair when you were a child? I do. It was something I looked forward to every summer. I have fond memories of going to the fair and couldn’t wait to take my girls. There is just something thrilling about risking your life on rickety rides, the smell of a 3000 calorie funnel cake, waiting for your lemon shakeup as some prepubescent acne faced girl shakes her milkshakes more than your shakeup and doing it all in the presence of pedophiles disguised as carneys (cue the Joe Dirt clip) . I mean, doesn’t that just scream good wholesome American fun? So, of course, I had a memory lapse a lapse in judgment a small stroke and took my girls. Dear God, why did I do that? Oh yeah, apparently everything is remembered through rose colored glasses beer goggles because my memory was a damn liar! That little bastard put me and my girls in danger.When I was a kid, I was always so excited to go. As an adult, not a little kid spending the day in the safety of their parents making memories or as a teenager sneaking off to meet some boy, a real honest to goodness grown up…a Mommy no less; I’m here to tell you that the fair is no place for a family after dark. Weird people come out of the woodwork like roaches scattering and strange behaviors ensue. I mean there are some things that just can’t be unseen! I swear I do not remember the fair being such a freak show and complete assault on my senses; a plethora of ugly people , the stench of garbage and port-o-pottys enveloped me. There was no escaping it.No offense to anyone who may intentionally associate with ,be related to, or themselves be an avid member of that freak show.It was like a Wal mart convention on the Midway. Here , I am walking around with my two girls in tow..thank God for my in laws who were with us serving as a little bit of a shield to all of the craziness.

Only the crème de la crème hit the fair after dark. You know the ones; crimped hair, tube tops, camel toes and ass shorts, mullet wearing, one toothed wonders who make up most of the population of the countrified beer garden? Yeah, those are the ones we were hanging out with that night. Luckily, my daughter’s were unfazed and will spend the next 20 years recollecting “the fair” with a great fondness saturated with laughter and recollections of Grandma ChaCha buying them popcorn and Grandpa Denny riding the carousel with them. But one day, when they take their own children, the magic of the fair will be exposed to them and the spell will be broken.God willing. I hope they don’t devolve into the avid nightly fair goers of whom I speak. There are no fireworks or free concert, in the world, worth exposing your children to the FAIR at night!

Moral of the story; there is a reason the fair only comes to town once a year!

I am Debi, I am a truthful Mommy. I am a 30 something Mommy, lucky enough to be married to my best friend and have 2 daughters whom I adore, most of the time. The last couple of years have been crazy for us with the economy. My husband has been downsized three times and we have moved twice and are about to move again. I’ve been single Mommying it during the weekdays and that’s a new experience, as well. Not exactly what I signed up for when I said I do. I used to have a life, friends, and work outside the home but when we had our daughter, I knew that I wanted to be home with her. I am honest about the good and the bad, so other Mommies can come to realize that they are not alone in the difficulty assimilating into this role in life. None of the parenting books tell you the truth about mothering. They spin it all around and make it a fairy tale so when reality hits and we are in the trenches of real Mothering, we sometimes feel like absolute failures. I am here to let the world know that it is magical and on some days, it’s menial but it’s all worth it.

I have discovered firsthand through the rigorous initiation process of Motherhood that most Mommies are so afraid to fail that we lie about how great and easy it all is, which is helpful to absolutely no one. I’m here to stand up and say, it’s not! It’s hard, sometimes hellish work but the random “Me love you Mommy” s and little jelly covered arms choking you with love makes it tolerable and at moments, even sublime. Motherhood is hard and it’s boring at times. I AM your average Mommy~ working my ass off to give my girls the best possible childhood I can provide. It’s not easy and it involves a lot of regret and self doubt, almost continuously, but I’d never trade this experience for something different because to give up the chaos, I’d have to give up all the bliss; the little day-to-day miracles that I’d miss if I weren’t here to look for them. For example; the feeling you get when your eyes meet your breastfeeding babies in the middle of the night, or how a simple coo can erase an entire horrible day, the way your heart speeds up when you first see their heartbeat or hear their voice

I blog for many reasons. The most important reasons being; I love my family. I also have grown fond of my sanity and need an outlet for all of the frustration. It helps connect me to others at a time in my life, when it is easy not to be. My blog allows me a place to be Debi, not just Mommy. My dream would be to parlay what I am passionate about (my family /writing) into a voice in the world.

Project Mom Casting has an open casting call to mom bloggers. They’re looking to pitch a reality-based show about bloggers and the world of social media. If they like what I just said, I may be called for an interview.

If you’d like to give me some props, head over to the Project Mom Casting Facebook page and click “like” on my submission. Or, retweet this using @momcasting in your mention!

Wow, if you thought dates were important when you were single~ that’s nothing in comparison to how vital they are to married life. When you are single, dating is like a popularity contest. A status symbol. It separates the haves from the have nots. When you are single, dating feels like it could be life or death, social life or death, that is. When you are married with children, dates mean something quite different. It still means life or death, but this time it is more literally the life or death of a crucial relationship; your marriage.I can not stress enough, how important alone time is with your spouse significant other the person who got you tied up in this mess in the first place. It took me a while for this lesson to sink in.Hell, who am I kidding? I fought it tooth and nail.But it has finally sunk in that my girls will be perfectly fine and not doomed to years of therapy or their imminent death just because I decide to have a night out with the big guy. They are in perfectly capable hands if I elect to leave them in the care of a trusted, thoroughly investigated caregiver (i.e. My Mom or my Mother in law~ baby steps people, baby steps!).

Remember when you were single and a date was all about the what ifs and possibilities? What you wore? Where you went?Would you or wouldn’t you give up the goodies? His apartment or yours? Now, its actually about what it was always meant to be about… spending time alone with the other person.

What will you wear? Who cares what you wear! Of course you want to look nice for your honey. Hell, smoking hot if you can pull it off! But keep in mind, he’s probably seen you give birth, and lets face it, there’s nowhere to go but up from there!

Where will you go? Seriously? Do we really care? As long as we are getting out of the house, alone, able to have an adult conversation across a table with one another, isn’t the rest all gravy? I mean, I’m sure usually when that happens, we end up somewhere gazing through a blur of exhaustion at one another thinking, “Holy shit it’s quiet in here. I sure could go for a nap but its so nice being alone with you baby! Instead, I’ll have a red bull and a vodka so I can stay up and enjoy our time together!”

Will you or won’t you? Of course you will, provided the kids stay in their own beds ,the red bull and vodka do their job and keep you awake, you can keep your eyes open after eating an entire warm meal in one sitting, and all the cuddling hasn’t relaxed you into a comma! I actually think, for couples with children, “dessert” before dinner is a good idea, if you can swing it. You’d feel a lot sexier with an empty belly ( at least I know I would), plus it would be before the heavy, comforting meal, the dark theater and the cuddling.Problem solved! Yes, the more I think of it, a little naughty before the nice date would be perfect.

Who’s place? Obviously the home that you share.Pick a room, any room..it’s your house. If you’re really feeling adventurous, get a hotel for the evening, Sybaris anyone? Get your married freak on.You deserve it, damn it!

Personally, the big guy and I have not yet made it to the Sybaris but let me tell you, the big guy spontaneously took me to a movie ( while we were visiting the in laws this past weekend). Grandma (trusted and thoroughly investigated caregiver..check)watched the girls. She even volunteered to sleep in the room with them so I could actually “Sleep” alone with the big guy ( because normally there are 2 little girls in the bed with us). Personally, I think Grandma is bucking for that illusive Grandson ( barking up wrong tree Grandma). Hey, its a theory. Or perhaps I just really look like I need some alone time with the big guy. No matter the reason, it was fabulous. I even got to fall asleep in the big guys arms ( right next to him and everything…you co sleeper Mommies know exactly what I mean). I woke up well rested with a smile on my face. That was until Grandma looks over at me at breakfast and asks ( NOT in her indoor voice either) “Did you guys mess my sheets?” She was chuckling and I turned about 27 shades of red. I thought to myself, “I’ll never tell but I’m pretty sure I just shat myself!Thanks for asking!” With that, the spell was broken! But it sure was nice while it lasted!

1. Who is your “what-if” person?(What-if person being what if I married this person or am now in a relationship with “this” person)

I have no what if person. I live in the now. Who cares what if?The only possible what ifs are people of the past who didn’t make the cut into my future. I am married to my best friend and true soul mate. I am just lucky to have recognized perfection when it stared me in the eyes, and to have been smart enough to jump in full force, to the most amazing journey of my life, Why would I ever question that?

2. What is your nickname?Debi, Mommy, “Debilukikuki ” Don’t laugh..my Dad made up crazy nicknames for all of his 6 children and now his 7 grandchildren, Babe, Sugar!3. If you could choose how you died, how would you like to die?I’d love to say in bed, in peace surrounded by the ones I love but if the punishment fits the crime (Meaning dying the way I lived..loud and obnoxious) I’d say it will more likely be some blaze of glory. I am thinking possibly spontaneously bursting into song and that turning into flames. I think for safety’s sake, I am going to invest in loads of fire extinguishers and randomly place them around my house…just to be safe.

4. If you could have named yourself, which name would you have picked?I like Lola, its fun, its sexy, its exotic..a lot like me. OR I’d use my middle name as my first name…Asuzenna (AH-SU_ZEE_Na).5. Who were you named after or for what reason did your parents choose your name?I was actually named after my Mom’s best friend (Debbie) and my Dad’s sister (Asusana) so I got a bastardized version of the two. Happy Monday!